Cracked
by TheRealRenee
Summary: // Chapter 14 now up \\ Torrie's life spirals into an unbelievable nightmare. Torrie/Jeff, Candice/Randy, Michelle McCool, Vince, others to be determined
1. Chapter 1

_December 2007_

"Come on, move it!"

The traffic was jammed badly on the expressway, and the woman glanced at the time glinting from the digital clock in the dashboard. Damn it... At the rate this was going, she was never going to make it in time.

Torrie Wilson groaned loudly and raised the volume of the radio, hoping some loud hard rock would sway her from freaking out. She was on her way to a SmackDown taping and had a match against Michelle McCool that evening. Of course, the odds were looking spectacular that she wasn't even going to make it.

"Come on, come on!" She grimaced at the thought of being late again. She couldn't _afford_ to be late again, and she damned sure as hell didn't want to have to pay another fine. It just wasn't fair! She had made sure she'd had plenty of time ahead of her when she'd set off on this trip.

She flipped the radio to AM and switched to an all news station. She listened carefully, and sure enough, it seemed there was an accident on the very highway she was traveling. Shaking her head dejectedly, she knew that a lot of drivers were probably being idiots and slowing down or stopping altogether just to stare at others' misfortune.

The platinum blonde put the hard rock station back on and exhaled deeply. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to keep her temper in check. The last thing she needed was to lose her cool while she was behind the wheel of a car.

She wished Lisa Marie had rode with her like she usually did. However, the dark-haired woman had had a family emergency and had gotten permission to miss this week's taping because of it. Maybe she should have caught a ride with one of the other girls, or even with a guy or two. She hated traveling alone.

Torrie suddenly shot a look at the driver behind her, glaring over her shoulder. The man was practically sitting on his horn at her to move. Well, what in hell was she supposed to do? Traffic ahead of her and to her right was bumper-to-bumper, so it wasn't as though she could do anything!

Wishing she had a pair of earplugs with her, the blonde increased the volume on the radio. In fact, the music was suddenly so loud that she could feel the bass reverberating through the seat. But she didn't care... She thought she would rather suffer some hearing loss than listen to the jerk behind her blaring his horn. What a rude piece of crap!

Torrie's heart began to pound uncontrollably mere minutes later when she suddenly noticed the man standing to her left. He looked angry and raised a fist to knock on her driver's side window, which, in the winter on the East Coast, was blessedly tightly rolled all the way up. She flinched just a bit as his fist struck the glass a second time. Trying not to curse under her breath, the woman put the window down just a crack.

"May I help you?"

"Yeah... Yeah, you can. Lady, will you turn that racket down? I can't hear my own radio!" he shouted.

Torrie quickly reached for the radio and lowered the volume a considerable amount. She hoped that would put an end to this conversation.

"Better?" she asked, not bothering to mask her own annoyance this time.

"You got an attitude on you, don't you?" the man asked. He began to laugh, and it grated on the blonde's nerves. "I swear, I don't understand broads like you."

Torrie glared at him, disbelieving her ears. What was this guy's problem? Didn't he have anything better to do while stuck in a traffic jam than pick a fight with her?

"Look," she said evenly, "I turned my radio down like you asked. Now, would you please just go back to your car and leave me alone?"

Her request only prompted more laughter out of the guy. She glared at him as he continued to stand there beside her car, and she suddenly realized something...

... The traffic was moving!

Shooing the man away, the diva quickly closed her window all the way and started to drive again. It was at a pretty slow speed for a ways until she finally passed the accident. It had been a three-car pile-up, complete with an ambulance. She hoped no one was seriously hurt, or worse. And of course, she'd been right in her guess that drivers had been stalling because they were watching the scene. As soon as she passed the wreck, traffic picked up and moved like normal.

Torrie drove a tiny bit faster than she usually did, but it was purely out of fear of being late to the arena. Unfortunately, she failed to arrive at the time she would have liked, but at least she was lucky enough to find an empty parking space, and quickly at that.

Just as she was pulling her rental into the spot, it happened... She felt the car get hit by something - something that also felt distinctly and unmistakenly metal.

"Oh, Christ!" she cried as she glanced over her shoulder. Worry quickly gave way for anger as she realized the other car had been trying to _steal_ her space!

She released her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, leaving the engine still running with the parking brake on.

Gesturing toward the other driver, she noticed the person step out of their car. It was another woman, and to Torrie's discomfort, she noticed there was a child in the backseat. She guessed they were fans here for SmackDown tonight.

"What's the big idea?" she asked.

"I think the 'big idea' is that I was parking my car," the woman retorted.

Torrie shook her head.

"You can't do that when I was here first. I was backing in and you tried to steal my spot by pulling in head-first? I don't think so!"

"Aren't you one of the WWE divas?" the woman asked her. But before the blonde could say anything in response, she continued. "Yeah, you _are_... You walk around like you think you own everything, like you're Queen of the Universe and should get everything handed to you on a silver platter. What a bitch! I'm sorry I'm helping to pay your salary!"

Torrie's eyes widened in shock. What was going on? Was there a full moon out tonight that she hadn't noticed? She shook her head.

"You can think whatever you like about me - that's your choice. But be that as it may, you're _still_ going to have to move your car."

The woman laughed, but with absolutely no traces of humor in it.

"I don't think so," she spat.

The diva glanced around the parking lot, hoping to see someone who might help her. It seemed that no one was willing. And there wasn't a soul around that she knew, since all of her fellow WWE superstars were already in the arena, as, unlike her, they'd arrived on time.

"Look at what you've done to my rental car!" Torrie cried. She'd only just taken notice of the sizeable dent in the back. She grimaced as she took it all in. "We'd better exchange information."

The woman had quickly gotten back into her vehicle. She flipped Torrie off with her driver's side window rolled down.

"Like hell, bitch!" she heard her yell. She couldn't believe this monster was leaving! She began to chase after the car, but all she succeeded in doing as hearing the little boy in the backseat start to cry.

"You bitch!" Torrie felt as though she were on the verge of tears. She stared after the car, somehow managing to remember the license plate. In a haste, she hurried back to her rental, got in and snatched up her cell phone to type it into her Notes. She would report that witch, all right.


	2. Chapter 2

Sure enough, as she'd known would happen, Torrie was late. She'd made it in plenty of time for her match, but she should have arrived at the arena nearly a full hour beforehand. Speaking with Mr. McMahon, who was there for a segment, did her no good. The WWE Chairman had not admonished her but informed her that she would have to pay a fine.

The blonde was finally beginning to settle down from the crazy night she'd had after her match. But as soon as she and her opponent got past gorilla position, the other woman snapped at her.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Michelle McCool barked, and Torrie whirled around to note the angry expression on her face. "You could have crippled me!"

"What?"

"You heard me! That swinging neckbreaker of yours is a disaster waiting to happen!" the skinny blonde cried. "And your clotheslines suck, too!"

Torrie's mouth hung open, and she didn't fail to realize that they had a bit of an audience. There were other wrestlers as well as backstage workers all around. She stared at Michelle, not quite knowing what to say purely out of shock. The young woman was usually very nice. Right now, she was being downright nasty. Torrie knew she was by no means the best wrestler. But she wasn't exactly the _worst_, either.

"Back off already!" she shouted, now annoyed as the younger woman continued yelling at her. "I've had a shitty night as it is, Michelle, and I don't need _you_ adding to it by telling me how 'bad' I am!"

"But you _are_," the former Diva Search contestant retorted. "The truth just hurts, doesn't it? Look, Torrie... If you don't watch yourself, I'll go straight to Mark."

_And get on your back and spread your legs for him_, Torrie thought, but she didn't utter a word of that aloud. Everyone knew how Michelle McCool and Mark Calloway had started out in their relationship - they'd had an affair while Calloway had still been married to his wife, Sara. He'd traded his already very young second wife for a 'newer model' in twenty-six-year-old Michelle.

Torrie sneered at the other woman, not giving into the satisfaction of a response. Instead, she turned away and marched down the hallway to catering.

Due to the fact that there were still about another sixty-odd minutes left of the taping, the room was deserted except for a few wrestlers. She smiled at Shannon Moore as the Cruiserweight was leaving with an orange in hand.

A moment later, the blonde was retrieving some fruit herself, with the intention of bringing it back to the hotel with her just in case she grew hungry. She had a Granny Smith apple in her right hand, an orange in the crook of her arm and was just reaching for a banana when she felt someone come up behind her.

Turning around, she had to keep the scowl she felt to herself. It was World Heavyweight Champion Dave Batista. She wondered what he could possibly want as he simply stood there, leering at her with a silly little smile on his face. On second thought, she, like everyone else in the company knew exactly the type of person he was.

"H-Hi," she stammered. She figured she might as well be nice.

"A banana, huh?" the muscular, tattooed man asked. He looked her up and down before speaking again. "What do you say later tonight, you personally show me how you eat one of those."

The platinum blonde gave him a look of disgust. Dave was known in the back as a bigtime womanizer, and none of the female talent in the company seemed to like him. Well, she could totally understand why his wife had divorced him! Without a word, she slipped past him and hurried from the room. The sound of Batista's laughter trailed after her, and she tried to drown it out.

--

Her head spun as she tried to meander her way through the crowds of people to leave. Strangely enough, the fans didn't seem to recognize her, because they were not bothering her.

She pulled her wheeled suitcase behind her, barely managing not to trip as it suddenly tipped over on her.

She'd been running late in terms of leaving the arena, just as she had in arriving. After being called back to speak with Mr. McMahon, she'd had no choice. On top of that, she needed to call the rental car company to explain her problem.

"Hey, it's Torrie Wilson!" she heard a young man suddenly call out. She turned to offer him a smile and saw that he was with two other young men. She waved at them.

Torrie entered the parking lot, her sights on her dented rental car. All she wanted to do was get to the hotel, go up to her room and pass out, thus forgetting the rotten day she'd had.

She heard wolf whistling behind her and tried to ignore it as she kept walking, her suitcase again wobbling as she yanked it over the gravelly ground.

"Hey, baby, why don't you give me a stinkface!" one of those same three young men called, referring to a move she regularly performed on opponents in the ring.

The tall blonde rolled her eyes and kept moving - until a bump in the concrete caused her to drop the handle of her bag. She bent down to pick it up, shivering in her black winter coat, when she suddenly realized those three guys were standing inches away from her, _over_ her. She stared at them with fear, instinctively knowing they weren't towering over her for a mere autograph or picture. Her heart just about stopped as she stood back up and saw the leering faces of each of them.

"Goodnight, guys," she said, reluctant to turn her back to them. She suddenly realized how thinly the crowd had thinned, and how many cars had already left the parking lot. It was nearly deserted by now, and she didn't see a parking attendant anywhere.

"No, no." It was that first guy, the one who'd called out to her. "Give us a little something first, hotness." He shocked her by putting his face into hers, puckering and making sucking noises.

Torrie recoiled, gasping, but one of the other men suddenly got behind her. She nearly tripped as she tried to step to the side. The guy grabbed her.

"Let _go_ of me!" she yelled, squirming. She noticed that the third guy was at her bag, and he was unzippering it. As she struggled in the grasp of the one behind her, she saw that one take out a pair of her panties and pocket them.

"Come on, gimme a kiss, Torrie!" the first guy taunted her. His eyes were closed as he was puckering again as he shoved his face so close to hers.

She kicked him in the crotch as hard as she could manage, screaming as she did so. The guy doubled over, groaning, and she gave the one holding her a nice elbow to the ribs. The one with her underwear stood by and gaped, then began to laugh as she tried to run but tripped. Fuck her suitcase and belongings. She still had her purse with her wallet, credit cards and cell phone. She was getting the hell out of there!

The second guy recovered quickly and suddenly tackled her to the ground. Torrie couldn't even scream this time as his weight crushed the air from her lungs. He was on top of her, and she was terrified she was about to be raped.

She was a professional wrestler, damn it... She could defend herself. On top of that, she'd had one stressful experience after another that day, and she wasn't going to take it anymore.

Somehow, the adrenaline in her body gave Torrie such great strength that she managed to push the guy off of her. She let out a snarl of rage as she straddled him, punching him repeatedly in the face.

"You bastard!" she screamed. She was so enraged, she actually saw red. She kept punching and punching until suddenly, she felt hands grabbing at her again, pulling her off the man. She screamed again and was about to hit the person behind her as well but stopped upon seeing them...

It was Vince McMahon.

She burst into tears and couldn't stop herself from throwing herself into the man's arms.


	3. Chapter 3

Vince cast his gaze around the area, shocked at the sight of the young man simply laying on the ground, beaten. Slowly, perhaps even reluctantly, he rubbed a hand up and down the back of the distraught woman weeping in his arms. He had never seen Torrie Wilson like this. Her suitcase was on the ground, open, several of her garments strewn on the parking lot ground for all the world to see. What in hell was going on?

"Torrie," he finally said, holding the young woman back at arm's length, "do me a favor... Go back inside the arena." Mr. McMahon gestured with his right hand, signaling for someone to come over.

The teary blonde looked up, one hand wiping at her nose. She realized the man approaching was a parking attendant. Where the hell had he been a few minutes ago, when she'd gotten grabbed?

"Please... Take her inside. Don't let her leave, whatever you do."

The uniformed man nodded and ushered the young woman away.

Torrie hesitated and started to speak, pointing at her suitcase and belongings.

"No, don't worry about that," Vince said calmly. "We'll take care of it... Just go on inside. Everything will be fine."

The older man watched, never moving his eyes away until Torrie was safely back inside the building. Then, turning back to the young man who lay on the ground, groaning and clutching his jaw, he reached for his cell phone. He knelt down to the guy's level to talk to him before dialing 911.

--

Torrie was still visibly shaken by the time Vince came back into the arena. Her tears had finally abated, her mascara had run and pooled on her cheeks, and her heartbeat had finally returned to normal, but she was still a mess.

"What..." That single word was all she could manage as she stood up from the small wooden bench upon which she'd been sitting. She eyed her boss expectantly, not quite knowing what would happen now. At the very least, she knew Vince had to have called the police.

"Relax, Torrie," he said, putting up his hands. He cast upon her the strangest look, and the blonde frowned in confusion. What was going on?

She sat back down on the bench, and the WWE Chairman opted to kneel by her rather than sit. He put a hand on one of hers and began to speak to her in hushed tones.

"Everything is going to be all right," he said. "But we need to talk about what happened out there."

The blonde recoiled just a bit, as though reliving the terror. She had never been attacked before, and it was an experience she never wanted to endure again. Somehow, as she gathered her wits, she managed to nod. She realized that she could hear sirens from a distance... The police were on their way.

"That man..." Vince said, "... You hurt him pretty badly." He simply stared at her, waiting for a reaction.

Torrie's lovely features hardened, then she softened them somewhat as she uttered another sole word.

"Good."

Mr. McMahon shook his head. This was definitely not good. He hadn't wanted that kind of response out of her that he'd just received. He looked into her hardened green eyes and continued.

"Torrie, I believe you shattered that man's jaw. You _broke_ his jaw," he emphasized.

This time, the blonde's expression was one of surprise, perhaps even shock.

"I... I did?"

"Yes, you did." Vince looked up as he heard footsteps, which grew nearer by the second. Voices spoke from nearby as well, and he stood up.

Torrie's gaze followed that of her boss, and two policemen as well as two others who appeared to be paramedics approached. From beyond the entrance, she could see the young man who had wrestled her to the ground, and another man with him. Apparently, neither of his two friends had stuck around. Her eyes widened, and she shrank back in fear.

"Easy, miss," one of the cops said gently, "everything is going to be fine." He held his hands up in a tentative manner.

Torrie looked up and into his face, her head nearly spinning. She stood up and began to speak.

"That man outside," she said, pointing with her left hand. "Are you arresting him?"

"Don't worry about that man, miss."

"He and two other guys grabbed me," she blurted. "I think they were going to... _rape_ me!" The memory of being attacked caused the tall blonde to tremble.

The policemen exchanged glances and looked at McMahon before focusing on her again.

"Oh, is that so?" the second cop queried.

Torrie nodded briskly, her eyes widening more.

"Thank God Mr. McMahon came along," she said.

"Err... When I came along," the WWE Chairman cut it, "_you_ were punching that man, Torrie. You were on top of him and you were - pardon my language here, gentlemen -" he said, eyeing the officers, "- beating the crap out of him."

The woman's eyes widened more as she realized Vince was not even going to defend her. What the hell was going on here?

"Miss, we need to take you away," one of the policemen stated. He reached for her with one hand, the other coming up with a pair of handcuffs.

"Wh-What? No, I didn't-"

"Torrie, this is for your own good," Vince said. "You need to relax for awhile. You broke a man's jaw."

"B-But..." She began to struggle as the officer grabbed her. "... It was self-defense!"

"Do you know who that man is out there?"

Torrie began to shout as she squirmed, trying to get free. This prompted the second cop to jump in and assist his partner.

"No!"

Mr. McMahon shook his head, a sad expression dominating his lined face.

"That is the son of the governor of Connecticut, Torrie... He assured me that he did not do anything to you other than ask you for an autograph." He paused as the police and now the two doctors handled the blonde woman, who was kicking, screaming and flailing, making a big production out of it. "He can barely even speak, due to his shattered jaw."

Torrie continued to scream as the four men carried her bodily out of the arena. One of the doctors had somehow restrained her ankles while the other three held her. This was sheer madness! What the hell was happening to her?

Vince followed them outside. He exchanged brief glances with the injured young man, who was just getting into an ambulance, before turning back to Torrie. The men put her into a second ambulance, shutting the doors behind her. Inside, there were two more people who would attend to her.

"Don't worry, Torrie!" Vince called, although he knew she could no longer hear him. "You'll still have your job when you get out!"


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Thanks to MarTW, Straight Edge Queen and extreme-stratusfaction for reviewing the last chapter. I totally appreciate the comments. You guys rock! ;) Keep the reviews coming!**_

_March 2008_

It had been a long and harrowing three months. They were, without a doubt, three months of her life that she would never get back. And now, she was back at work, at a job that she no longer felt passion for, given the circumstances of those last three months.

Torrie was suspicious of everyone around her as she entered the arena. She was quiet as a mouse except for the sound of her wheeled suitcase as she pulled it, and that of her heels as they clacked against the floor.

She knew they were all watching her, talking about her. It stung, for a lot of these people had been her friends.

She had been told that the company had released a rumor of her having been out because of a bad back. They'd wanted to throw the internet wrestling community off the scent so as to avoid the scandal. Too bad they hadn't done the same _within_ the company. She knew everyone - wrestlers, backstage workers, management, creative, _everyone_ - knew where she'd been since the middle of December.

Torrie bitterly recalled how she'd spent Christmas and New Year's. It had been pure hell, as though she had walked straight into a nightmare. And how had she been put into such a situation in the first place? It had been completely out of her control. She'd done absolutely nothing wrong as far as she could tell. She'd defended herself, spared herself the horrifying humilation, pain and violation of getting raped, and possibly worse. She didn't deserve to have been _there_ for three months, she knew she didn't.

"Hey."

Torrie was startled by the voice, and she looked up to realize she was standing just outside the women's locker room. Lisa Marie Varon, her best friend, was smiling at her. She could easily tell, however, that it was an awkward, somehow forced gesture.

"Hey, Lisa. It's so good to see you," she replied, forcing a smile of her own.

The dark-haired woman eyed her with concern. The smile was suddenly gone.

"How... How are you?" she asked.

Torrie swallowed hard at the tentativeness in her friend's voice. She knew Lisa Marie better than probably anyone else in the world, and it hurt to know that she was uncomfortable. She steeled herself, squaring her shoulders as she looked the other woman directly in the eye.

"I'm fine."

Lisa Marie seemed to stare at her, almost right _through_ her, in silence. After a beat, she smiled, and it definitely, unmistakably, seemed forced. She cleared her throat and spoke again.

"Okay, well, that's good. Look, if you need anything - anything at all - you know where to find me." She gave the tall blonde woman a soft pat on the shoulder before heading away down the hall.

Torrie closed her eyes as she listened to her friend walking away. She had to pace herself and get hold of her emotions. This just... sucked. She knew everyone was going to treat her exactly as her own best friend just did - like she was some sort of freak, outcast or crazy person. Oh, sure, Lisa had been nice enough and all, but she could see right through the veneer. Inside, she was really feeling sorry for her and uncomfortable, as though she had to walk on eggshells with her now. Torrie decided she'd better get used to it.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling it all out slowly, the blonde turned the handle on the door and stepped into the locker room, pulling her suitcase in behind her. Without even turning to face forward, she could instantly feel the shift in mood within the room. Women stopped their conversations, and everything went silent for a moment.

It made her feel beyond uneasy, as though she were under a microscope. She turned her head forward again, her lips slightly parted as she kept her head held up high. And then, one-by-one, the other divas started speaking to her, some even approaching.

"Hi, Torrie," Lilian Garcia said with a smile. She raised a hand to wave as she paused at her locker.

"Hey, how are you?" Candice Michelle asked, also with a smile. At least the brunette sounded a little more genuine, at least to her ears. But who could tell?

"Torrie... Nice to see you back." That one came from Michelle McCool, and she knew it was just as fake as the woman herself. Michelle had never liked her, and she knew it.

The reason the RAW divas were around was due to the Supershow that night. Torrie wished she were back on that roster, even though Lisa Marie, like herself, had been moved to SmackDown that past July.

"Hi, ladies," she said, acknowledging the entire slew of women. Many of them were friends of hers, or at least used to be. She wondered what the true percentage now was. No one seemed to want to approach her aside from Candice and Lilian. Lena Yada, the newest ECW diva, came halfway toward her to say hello, but beyond that, that was it.

Torrie sat down and went through her suitcase, changing into a pretty, flowing baby blue dress. She didn't have a match but did have a scheduled small backstage segment with a couple of the other women later in the evening. She wished she didn't have to do it. At the very moment, she was feeling so self-conscious, wishing she were home in bed or that the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

Without a word to anyone, she soon after rose and left the room. She thought once again that she might as well get used to this sort of treatment. At least then she would know to expect it... But of course, that wouldn't make it feel any better.

The blonde strode down the hall a short ways to makeup. Janet, the stylist, seemed somewhat startled as she came over to sit down in her chair. Torrie said hello, and the woman gave her a nervous smile and said it back.

She didn't utter a single other word besides "thanks." Once her hair and makeup were done, the platinum blonde stood up and walked away. She had no intention of returning to the women's locker room. It seemed it didn't matter _where_ she went, because everyone was going to look at her funny. She just wanted to be alone.

Torrie turned the corridor in the farthest reaches of the hallway, sighing with relief as she noticed an equipment case with nothing on it. Swallowing hard and holding back the tears that threatened to break free, she made a beeline for it.

She was sitting there for about five minutes before the tears won their battle against her. Sniffling, she tried her best to keep them to a minium so as to prevent her makeup from getting too messed up.

She failed to notice the presence lingering nearby, the person watching her.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Thanks to Straight Edge Queen, extreme-stratusfaction and MarTW for reviewing the last chapter. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this little fic. You all rock! :)**_

_The Following Week, SmackDown_

Torrie briskly walked through the parking lot, into the arena. She was filled with trepidation, which seemed to have become a regular thing now.

She was scheduled to make her long-awaited in-ring return that night. To the fans, she was coming off a back injury. It was of course dishonest, but she preferred it that way. If they knew she'd been shut away in that dingy hellhole, they would probably look down at her, treat her as an outcast whenever she had an appearance or signing. They'd treat her the same way her fellow WWE employees did.

She swallowed hard as she walked the hallway and thought about her new storyline. She absolutely hated it. She'd returned the previous week as a heel. The Boise Belle, Torrie Wilson, was fed up with the "All American Girl," Michelle McCool, for having stolen her spotlight. _She_ was America's sweetheart on SmackDown, not McCool. _She_ was the one who deserved an inter-brand Women's title shot against the champion, Beth Phoenix.

Tonight's script called for a match with Michelle. Surprisingly, it was a regular, not a gimmick match. Torrie was supposed to attack the other woman outside the ring, inflict real brutality on her with the ring bell. She was going to get disqualified, but Michelle was somehow going to get a one-up on her and retaliate.

It was enough to make the tall blonde wince. The last thing she'd wanted when she returned was to be put into a storyline with Michelle McCool. It seemed that ever since the other woman had gotten involved with Mark Calloway - The Undertaker. She had a chip on her shoulder and a stick up her ass. She walked around as though she owned the place and was nasty about it. It was enough to make Torrie's skin crawl.

She was surprised as she entered the women's locker room. A few divas from the RAW roster were present. Had she missed something? She didn't recall any mention of a Supershow.

"Hi, Torrie." Candice had issued the greeting, along with a warm smile. It seemed the brunette might actually still be her friend, as she was friendly whenever they saw one another.

"H-Hi, Candice," she replied. She glanced around the room. "Am I missing something? What are you doing here?"

The brunette laughed softly.

"I've got a match against Lisa Marie tonight," she explained. "An inter-brand thing. I've been hearing rumors that Vince is thinking about combining the rosters."

"Really?"

"Yeah... So, I guess this is his way of testing the waters, so to speak," the brunette replied.

"Oh." Torrie was momentarily lost for words. She'd heard not a word of any of this from Lisa Marie, and that hurt.

"Listen, I'll see you a little later," Candice said. She offered the blonde a smile and headed for the door.

Torrie waved, then sighed when she was gone. No one else had bothered to say anything to her, not even 'hello.' She sat down and opened her suitcase, sadness overtaking her. She could hear the whispers of a few of the others in the room and barely looked up. It hurt, but she chalked it up to being a regular occurrence already. Besides, what would happen if she approached them to defend herself? Surely, it wouldn't bode well for her.

As Torrie merely went about her business, someone approached her. She looked up from the wrestling costume she was holding as a shadow fell over her, disappointed to see Michelle McCool, of all people. She decided to be cordial.

"Hi, Michelle."

"Torrie," the other woman said, not even bothering to say hello or anything, "you'd better be on top of your game tonight." She gave the other woman a sour look as she got right to the point of why she was even speaking to her. "I don't want to get hurt getting in the ring with you, especially after your little hospital stay."

Torrie's eyes widened, and she felt as though she was literally being crushed. The room had fallen dead silent as Michelle had spoken those last few words.

She dropped her costume and bolted up, instantly wishing the floor would just swallow her whole. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask the younger woman how she could say such a thing to her, but she froze up. As she felt tears coming, all Torrie could do was flee the locker room.

She raced down the hallway, certainly she could hear a laugh or two trailing behind her. She was about to explode as she reached the corridor. She ducked into it, her back against the wall as the tears flowed freely. Torrie allowed herself to sink down until she was sitting on the floor. She brought her knees up and held them closely against her chest as she sobbed as quietly as she could manage.

Once again, just like the week earlier, she missed the man who hid out in the shadows nearby, watching her.


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N: Thanks to the loyal extreme-stratusfaction, StraightEdgeQueen and MarTW for reviewing the last chapter. You guys are awesome! I think you'll be glad for this new chapter because a certain someone finally makes an actual appearance in this one! ;)_**

Torrie sniffled as she finally felt her tears subside. She took several deep breaths, hating that she had grown to be so weak. She'd never cried quite so easily in her life, not even when she was a little girl - not even when her parents had gotten divorced.

"Yeah, people really _do_ suck, don't they?"

The blonde nearly jumped in her seated position on the floor, her head whipping around as she glanced over her shoulder. She'd had no idea she was still being watched, so the voice had startled the daylights out of her. But... she didn't see anyone.

"W-what?" she asked, hating the small quaver in her voice.

"People," came the male voice, soft but just slightly louder. "Too many of them suck. Believe me, I know."

Torrie frowned and turned her head again, searching for the owner of the voice. It sounded familiar, but it belonged to someone from another roster, someone she hadn't spent any real amount of time with since she'd joined the WWE and he'd been rehired by them. She craned her neck, her gaze trailing to the very top of the equipment cases stacked high to her left in the corridor. She was finally able to just make him out in the shadows.

"Um... Yeah. I mean, it seems like everyone's giving me a hard time lately."

"I hear you," the man said, a hint of defeat coming into his voice. "But you gotta roll with the punches. I learned that a long time ago."

Torrie nodded, squinting as she kept her gaze on him. He was so high up, actually close to the ceiling. She couldn't help but wonder why he'd climbed all the way up there. On the other hand, one thing she knew about this man was that he was definitely not afraid of heights.

"I know it sounds cliche," he went on, "but you can't let anyone bring you down."

"I try not to," she said.

"Good. That's a start," the man praised her. He was silent and thoughtful for a beat. "You got so much goin' for you, yet you don't even seem to realize it."

The platinum blonde said nothing this time, instead opting to give him a strange look - as though what he were saying was a foreign concept. Dear God, did this woman really think _that_ little of herself? It didn't seem possible.

"C'mon, you gotta know that."

She still said nothing, but he saw her gaze drop a slight distance.

"Well, for starters, you're really beautiful," he pointed out. "If I can be frank, you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever laid eyes on."

Despite herself, this time a smile came to Torrie's face. She couldn't help it - she'd always been a sucker for flattery.

"You're smart, and you have a good sense of humor. Nice personality, good disposition. And, to top it all off, you're talented," the man concluded. "Now, you tell me - what's not to like?"

The blonde woman found herself chuckling, which surprised herself probably more than it did him.

"There you go," he said cheerily. "You know what? It's good to hear you laugh. And I'm glad _I'm_ the one who made you do it."

Torrie raised her gaze, eyeing him appreciatively. This was just exactly what she'd needed, someone on her side. He had definitely picked up her spirits in a big way.

"Thank you," she said.

"And don't let that Michelle McCool get to you," the man said. "That one's really got a bad attitude. If you ask me, she's just jealous."

"Huh?"

"Oh, come on," he said. "Who's been the top diva on SmackDown since 2002? _You_, Torrie! She's just got her panties in a bunch now that you've returned because she got the top spot while you were gone. And now, with you back, the rug's been pulled out from under her." With those words, the young man climbed down from his position on top of the stack of equipment crates. He came to sit directly beside her and offered her a warm smile. "Don't worry," he said with a wink. "Everything's gonna work out just fine."

The blonde diva merely stared into his eyes and again somehow managed a tiny smile. Everything this man had just said to her was so wonderful, and he had a strange way of actually making her _believe_ it. She'd never known him well at all, and she'd never taken him for such a talker, but he was so motivational!

"I gotta go - got a match to get ready for," he said. He gave her left shoulder a soft pat as he rose to his feet. "I'll see you later, Torrie."

She simply stared at him, blinking as she raised a hand to wave. The word "bye" left her lips in such a soft whisper, she wasn't even sure that he heard it.

And Torrie watched as Jeff Hardy walked down the corridor, away from her.


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Thanks as always to Straight Edge Queen, MarTW and extreme-stratusfaction for the awesome reviews for the last chapter! You guys truly do ROCK! ;)**_

_Royal Rumble_

Torrie was pleasantly surprised by the reaction she received by a good percentage of the fans in attendance in the crowd. As she walked her way down the ramp to the ring, she had to really fake her true emotions, keeping in mind that her role was that of heel now.

She knew the fans didn't know where she'd _really_ been during her three months away. If the truth were known, she had a near deathly fear of that coming out, because she had a feeling they would look at her in a whole different light...

... And that wouldn't be much different from the way her fellow superstars now viewed her.

Putting that out of her mind, the blonde instead reveled inside at the good amount of cheers she was getting. Aside from her small backstage vignettes, this was the first the fans were getting to see her in the flesh, and in the ring, since her three months of hell. The cheers were music to her ears, and it was damn near difficult for her to not get choked up.

However, once she entered the ring, the reality of her return match hit. She was going to be facing Michelle McCool, a fact that had weighed heavily on her ever since she'd returned. For some undetermined reason, the woman simply did not like her, and it made her downright uncomfortable.

Michelle's music, which was actually a recycling of one of _her_ old theme songs, suddenly hit. Torrie watched as she appeared at the top of the ramp, taking a deep breath and exhaling it evenly as she stretched her arms a little, preparing herself. The "All American Girl" pranced to the ring, all grins, waving at the fans in the crowd. Torrie smirked to herself upon the realization that she was getting a rather lukewarm reaction.

The other blonde did her usual 'look at me' type of ring entrance, then entered the squared circled. Torrie had to act all aggressive, as though she just wanted to launch onto the other diva. In reality, as the referee stepped between them, she wished she could just walk away. Why did the WWE have to put her in a program with _her_? And why so soon after what she'd been through? She couldn't help wondering what she'd done to deserve this and wished, not for the first time, that she were at least back on RAW.

The referee signaled for the bell, and the timekeeper sounded it. The two women locked up in the middle of the ring, with McCool soon turning it into a Hammerlock. Torrie shortly after reversed it, slapping her opponent in the back of the head before going for a hair pull.

Referee Charles Robinson stepped in to angrily admonish her, and the platinum blonde retreated with her hands up in a placating manner.

The match went fairly and surprisingly smoothly for several minutes. Torrie was beginning to feel a lot better about herself, and the fact that she and Michelle seemed to be working well together. However, she realized she thought too soon when she executed her Swinging Neckbreaker.

It was the one move in the Boise Belle's arsenal that the snotty blonde despised more than any other. Michelle unsteadily got back on her feet, her slim left hand pressed to her chest as Torrie made a grab for her again.

Clearly noticing the very real rage on the other diva's face, Torrie tried the next spot but was given a great shove instead. Because that had been completely unexpected, the older woman landed backward on the canvas, on her butt. She looked up, shocked, into Michelle's eyes. The referee appeared equally shocked by the move, and perplexed as well.

Torrie recovered, getting back up for the final bits and pieces of this match. She tried to communicate with her opponent via eye contact, but all the other blonde seemed to do was give her dirty looks.

Finally, the ending spot came up. Torrie grabbed Michelle and slammed her down face-first for the Nose Job. Wearily, she made the cover for the pinfall and the win...

... Too bad she didn't _feel_ as though she'd won.

She heard Lilian Garcia announce her as the victor as Robinson raised her hand high. Afterward, the platinum blonde was relieved as she left the squared circle and headed up the ramp to the backstage area.

Torrie had barely gotten backstage when she suddenly heard the shouts.

"Where is she?!" the angry woman's voice demanded.

It was, of course, Michelle McCool. She turned to see the younger woman holding the back of her head, quite possibly looking more angry than she'd ever seen her.

"You bitch!" she screamed. "You're never gonna do that Swinging Neckbreaker again!"

People in the hallway stopped whatever they were doing to stare.

Torrie felt her heart quivering and fully turned to face her. She narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

"I couldn't have hurt you... I did the move properly," she said in a calm tone. "Besides, you don't have the authority to say what moves people can or cannot use."

Michelle's blue eyes flashed dangerously.

"You wanna make a bet?" she demanded. "You're _not_ gonna use it on me from here on out. I'll go to Mark if I have to."

The older woman stared at her apparent enemy, seething. It was pathetic that Michelle would threaten her in that manner - run to her boyfriend, who had tons of stroke in the company due to his eighteen years there. She shook her head.

"You do what you have to," Torrie countered. "All I know is that I have every right to do that move... And if you have to resort to crying to your sugar daddy about it, then you're not really as good as you thought, huh?" With that, she spun on her heel, leaving a shocked Michelle McCool standing with her mouth wide open.

Torrie didn't notice as Jeff Hardy stood there in the corridor, having overheard the exchange. A grin spread across his handsome face as he nodded his approval.


	8. Chapter 8

**_A/N: Thanks to extreme-stratusfaction and Straight Edge Queen for reviewing the last chapter! You guys rock. ;) More drama comes with this new chapter!_**

Torrie thought every last bit of drama was done with for the night. She took a hot fifteen minute shower that calmed her nerves considerably, then dressed and returned to the women's locker room.

"Hey." Candice Michelle gave her a small, tentative smile and took small steps toward her. The brunette's face looked kind as she reached over to touch her shoulder. "You okay? I heard all that yelling in the hall a few minutes ago."

The blonde was surprised but grateful as she looked up at the other diva. She sighed.

"Yeah, I'm okay. That was just Michelle threatening my job again."

Candice's perfectly plucked brows drew together in a frown as she sat beside the other woman.

"What?"

The blonde shook her head with disgust.

"You know she's dating the Undertaker, right? Well, ever since they hooked up, whenever something doesn't go her way - at least when it comes to _me_ - she goes running to him." She rolled her eyes. "I really can't stand having to work with her."

"Well, I can't stand having to work with _you_, either!"

They looked up to see a still enraged Michelle standing in the doorway. In a huff, she slammed the door behind her, causing Torrie to nearly jump out of her skin. Candice and Torrie exchanged shocked glances. Other divas in the room grew silent as they stared at the spectacle. A few opted to leave in small groups so as to avoid any physical scuffle that might erupt.

"You bitch!" the irate blonde shouted as she stood towering over her opponent for the night. "How _dare_ you talk to me the way you did out there! Do you know who you're dealing with? _Do_ you?!"

Torrie sighed tiredly and looked away from the other woman. She waved a hand at her in a dismissive fashion, wanting only to go about her own business.

"I asked you a question!" Michelle shrieked. "And I want - no, I _demand_ an answer!"

The Idaho native bolted to her feet and faced her squarely, her eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, I _do_ know who I'm dealing with! I'm dealing with the former Diva Search contestant who had to spread her legs for a veteran to get anywhere in this company!"

Candice's brown eyes widened in shock as she witnessed what happened next. Michelle suddenly launched herself at Torrie, and the two tumbled to the floor in a blonde heap. Curses flew through the humid air as they hit and clawed at one another.

In a flash, the brunette jumped in to assist. From another portion of the locker room, Mickie James ran in to grab hold of Michelle. The two blondes struggled as they attempted to break free to fight again, but the brunettes refused and amply held them back.

"Enough!" Candice shouted, but it was mostly directed at Michelle. That girl had certainly changed a lot since they'd competed in the first Diva Search together. It was almost frightening to the brunette.

"What the hell is going on here?!" a new female voice yelled from the doorway. Stephanie McMahon stood there, her eyes angry as she absorbed what had just happened. Torrie's heart sank as she realized someone must have run for the boss' daughter. She hoped she wouldn't get into trouble, and certainly not like she had back in December! She couldn't deal with that again.

Stephanie was indignant as she looked both Michelle and Torrie up and down. She might have known it was those two, but the truth was, she didn't like Michelle one bit. Things had been different back during and after the Diva Search she'd been part of, as the brunette had taken a liking to her. In fact, she had been the first to offer and even promise the blonde a job with the WWE. As far as she was concerned now, that had been a mistake.

"You two - my father wants to see you - _now_!" Stephanie muttered through gritted teeth. She was not the least bit amused by the fact that they'd had a fight.

Candice gave Torrie a look of sympathy, stepping forward as she started to go.

"Stephanie, if I may... Torrie didn't start it. Michelle did."

The other brunette said nothing, but she gave a short nod before following the two blondes out into the hallway.

Torrie practically cowered on the inside as she walked behind Michelle. This was probably the next to last place she wanted to be. What if Vince put her in that hellhole again? After all, when it happened before, she had been in a fight prior to it. And once again, she'd been _defending_ herself, nothing more, nothing less.

She could swear she detected a slight hint of sympathy glimmering in Stephanie's blue eyes as she glanced at her - yet, she couldn't tell for sure. If that was indeed the case, she hoped with all her being that the woman's father would have a heart and go easy on her.

The tall blonde suddenly caught the gaze of Jeff Hardy out of nowhere. The young man was hanging out in a remote corner of the hallway, chatting with an old friend of his, Shannon Moore. His kind, warm green eyes seemed to be silently communicating with her somehow, comforting her. It was as though he was telling her not to worry, because everything would be okay. She only wished she felt as confident as she walked by, casting a glance back at him over her shoulder.

_What did I ever do to deserve this_? she thought miserably.

Stephanie moved up ahead of the two other woman as they came to Vince's office. She knocked, then opened the door without waiting for a response. She held the door open for them to enter, giving her father a curt nod before trotting off.

Torrie took a seat, her nerves frazzled as she looked into the eyes of her boss. She folded her hands primly in her lap, willing them not to shake. She took a quick glance at Michelle sitting at her right and fought against scowling. It was difficult due to the fact that _she_ was the reason she was here right now.

"Ladies, ladies," Mr. McMahon began, clapping his hands together, "I'm disappointed in you. We can't have our divas brawling in the locker rooms, or out in the hallway. Keep it for the ring."

Neither woman spoke a word. The boss looked each one over, eventually focusing mostly on Michelle.

"You know, it'll do no good to constantly throw your weight around, Miss McCool." _Especially when you barely have any_, he thought. Who did this girl think she was? "It doesn't matter what you say to Mark. Remember that _I_ am the boss around here."

Torrie stared, transfixed, at the man. If she wasn't feeling so intimidated and worried, she would have smiled. It was especially nice to see the bitchy blonde looking so humbled.

"If I hear of you two fighting again at an arena and it's not inside the ring, I'll suspend you both. That is all - you're free to go."

Michelle practically bolted out the door the moment she stood up. It was obvious she wasn't accustomed to being in trouble with the boss.

As for Torrie, she felt as though a momentous weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She closed her eyes as she left the office, a deep breath slowly exhaling from between her lips. She was startled as she opened her eyes to the realization that someone had sidled up to her.

"Told you there was nothing to worry about." Jeff winked at her. Smiling as he softly touched her shoulder, he stepped away. He offered her a hand in a wave goodbye before continuing back down the hallway.

The blonde stared after him, perplexed as she waved back. She realized at that moment that he wasn't called "enigma" for nothing.


	9. Chapter 9

**_A/N: Thanks to Straight Edge Queen, Kate and MarTW for the reviews of the last chapter. I have a feeling you will really enjoy what happens in this new chapter. ;)_**

By the time Torrie returned to the locker room, everyone had already gone. She'd had no idea it was so late as she retrieved her belongings. It was too bad, because she'd wanted to thank Candice for her kindness. She decided she would call the brunette when she got back to the hotel.

As she was heading out the door, she nearly collided with Michelle - her new enemy, by the looks of things. The skinny blonde shot her a dirty look and stepped past her. Torrie continued out, opting to just ignore the other woman.

"Don't think for one second that this is all over," Michelle's voice called after her.

Torrie glanced back over her shoulder to see the younger diva standing in the open doorway, her foot keeping the door open. Her hands were placed firmly on her hips, and her face wore a look of disgust. She felt a chill. What was wrong with Michelle McCool? Wasn't the fact that they'd gotten in trouble and just received a warning from the boss enough to end this? Apparently not.

She just kept walking without issuing a response. She shuddered at the thought of Michelle doing something else that could possibly cost her her job. Worse still, Torrie could end up back... _there_. She couldn't and _wouldn't_ allow that to happen.

As she made her way outside, a voice startled her off to the left. Someone just so happened to be standing just beyond the door she'd exited.

"Hey, Torrie."

She pressed a hand to her chest, relieved when she saw Jeff Hardy standing there. If it had been some crazed fan instead, like that last time... She pushed the terrifying memory from her mind and smiled.

"Hi, Jeff... I'm surprised you're still here."

"Actually," the young man said, "and I hope you don't mind - I was waitin' for _you_."

"Really?" Torrie eyed him, dumbstruck.

"Yup." He hesitated, studying her for a moment. She looked a little on edge, and he sensed something more had happened to her since her fight with Michelle McCool. "I was wonderin'... Would you like to go grab a cup of coffee or somethin'?"

The blonde eyed him with surprise. Well, Jeff Hardy had always been one who was _full_ of surprises. It was odd that he was taking a sudden interest in her lately. Still, he'd been so nice to her recently, while everyone else had basically given her the cold shoulder.

"Sure, Jeff," she replied. She smiled warmly at the rainbow-haired daredevil. "I think I'd like that."

"Great," he said, walking alongside her, his bag in tow as he slung it over his shoulder. "It'll be nice to talk to someone normal for a change," he remarked.

Torrie would have laughed at his comment, but she was so taken aback by it. She was probably one of the last people in the company anyone would think of as 'normal,' considering the fact that a mere three months earlier, she had been locked away in a mental institution against her will and while she was one-hundred percent sane, but in one nonetheless.

"We'll have to take your car," Jeff announced. "I got a ride with my brother tonight."

"Okay."

A few minutes later, they were in Torrie's rental, about to pull away. As the platinum blonde shifted into gear, her gaze caught sight of Michelle and Mark Calloway several yards away. They were pulling matching wheeled suitcases along, apparently heading for their own vehicle. She couldn't help but scowl. She had no problem whatsoever with Mark, but his girlfriend was a different story.

"It's a shame, ain't it?" she heard the younger Hardy suddenly ask.

She turned to face him.

"What is?"

"That," Jeff said with a gesture of his hand in the direction of the couple. "She's _totally_ usin' him for his money and power. Why else would she be pushed as SmackDown's 'number one' diva?"

"Because she's a good wrestler?" Torrie had to wonder why she was actually defending the bitch. McCool had gone out of her way to make her life miserable, even before her 'hiatus.'

The young man chuckled as she pulled out of the parking lot and steered onto the street.

"You're a fascinatin' woman, Torrie Wilson."

She shifted her eyes in his direction to see an amused expression playing on his face. After a beat, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well," he said, directly facing her as she drove, "here you are, with the perfect opportunity to agree with me, but instead, you're actually payin' your worst enemy a compliment." He laughed again. "I like that, it's admirable. You can see the good in even the lowest forms of life."

The blonde felt as though tiny elves were pulling at the corners of her mouth. She couldn't help but laugh at what he'd just said. She let it out, nearly getting overcome by a fit of giggles.

Jeff grinned. He liked _her_, too. In fact, he found Torrie Wilson absolutely infectious.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: Thanks to Straight Edge Queen and MarTW for reviewing the last chapter. :)**_

Torrie was already feeling a lot better. She and Jeff were at a small cafe across from their hotel, chatting and leisurely sipping some drinks.

"So, you see," the colorful-headed young man was saying, "people have always regarded _me_ as different, too. Well, as a freak, to be perfectly honest." He nursed his cup of coffee and shook his head. "But I never, ever let that get to me."

The blonde diva laughed softly, enjoying herself. He certainly had a way with words. She'd always known that Jeff Hardy was an eccentric, unique individual, but 'freak' was about the last adjective she would use to describe him. He was intelligent, insightful and downright intriuging... She laughed inwardly at her thoughts. What was she doing, creating her very own 'Three I's' for him, like Kurt Angle would have done?

"Well, I can certainly relate to you, Jeff," she said. She grew somewhat sad as she gazed down into her own cup of coffee. "I know I've definitely felt like a freak these last few months." She shook her head, the sadness and lack of comprehension over her recent fate flooding back and overwhelming her. "I don't understand it... I don't understand how I could have been put in such a position." Unbitten, a bitter and terrifying memory came back to her.

_It was the same night she'd been put into the godforsaken place._ Cambridge Manor _had a ring of beauty to it, but the same was _so_ deceiving. After all, it wasn't a beautiful, grand mansion but a mental institution._

_Torrie kicked and screamed, crying all the way as the EMTs, or whatever they were, carried her out of the ambulance. What were they planning on doing to her? This could _not _be happening! She was in a strange town, with a bunch of people she didn't know, and she had to go home!_ Why _were they doing this?_

_She tried to flee the moment they set her on the ground but didn't get far as a man ran after her. Forcibly, he picked her up, placing her onto an awaiting stretcher. Her wrists were still shackled by a set of handcuffs._

_"Please!" she begged, her voice filled with misery. "What are you going to do to me?"_

_She was strapped onto the stretcher, suddenly unable to move save for raising her head._

_"We're going to help you, Miss Wilson."_

Help, my ass! _Torrie thought, and she screamed the moment they wheeled her into the huge building. To her horror, as she glanced around, it was all clear to her._

_"Why am I here? I'm not crazy!"_

_No one bothered to respond this time as she was wheeled into a tiny room. She raised her head as best she could, and her eyes widened. She looked up, beseechingly, at whoever happened to be there assisting her._

_"N-No... Please d-don't do this to me."_

_Her pleas went ignored as she was suddenly freed from the stretcher. Two men, who were most likely orderlies, carried the horrified woman to the table - the hideously ugly table with straps at either end._

_She thrashed again as they unlocked her handcuffs, actually catching one man in the face with her left hand. He swore loudly didn't didn't hit her back. In Torrie's mind, that would have been a better alternative than what actually did happen._

_She was strapped down and merely left there to scream and cry. The men walked out without a word, and she found herself feeling more terrified than she could ever remember in her life. _Why _was this happening to her?_

"Hey, it's okay," Jeff said, bringing her back from the horrible memory. He was knelt by her right side, his left hand gently stroking up and down her arm.

Only then did Torrie realize she was silently crying, as she felt a tear trickle its salty way down her cheek and into her mouth. She gazed down at him with tragedy in her eyes.

Their waitress came over in a hurry. She eyed the blonde with sympathy.

"Is there anything I can get you?"

"Yeah," the young man answered, "just the check... Please." He turned back to Torrie and eyed her plaintively. "It's okay, Tor," he murmured. "You're safe. We'll just get out of here and back to the hotel, okay?"

She nodded, but the tears kept coming. Somehow, she seemed powerless to stop them.

"You can tell me all about it," Jeff offered. "It'll make you feel better." She hadn't told him what was bothering her at that precise moment, but he knew it had to be her experience, her time at that damn facility. He would stake his life on it.


	11. Chapter 11

**_A/N: Thanks to Kate, Straight Edge Queen and MarTW for reviewing that last chapter. :)_**

Torrie sniffled as her tears abated. As she and Jeff entered her floor of the hotel, she was so grateful toward him for being so kind. His arm was gently wrapped around her waist as they made a beeline for her room.

Quickly, she swiped her keycard through the door, and the young man followed her inside. His very quick survey of the interior unmistakably gave him a peek as to the blonde's distinctive tastes. But he ignored all of that for the time being as he wanted to focus on being there for her in her time of need.

He led the diva to sit on the edge of the hotel bed, hesitant to sit beside her at first. The truth was, Jeff didn't know how she would react if he did that. He got his answer seconds later.

"You don't have to stand there," Torrie said as she looked up at him. "Please, Jeff... Sit here, next to me." She patted the area on the mattress to her immediate left.

The rainbow-haired wrestler shrugged slightly, then obliged. He was relieved she had stopped crying. He eyed her in silence, knowing full well that she was going to spill her guts at her own pace.

"Well," she began, taking a deep breath, "you and everyone else in the company knows where I was in those three months." She shook her head, still unable to swallow the fact that she'd been at that horrible place.

Jeff nodded slowly, his urge to reach for her hand so great.

"But nobody knows what I went through there," she continued. She closed her eyes tightly, desperately trying to control her emotions as she mentally relived the harrowing experience.

"They put me in isolation that first night... Carried me to this dank, horrible room and shackled me down." She opened her eyes fearfully, casting a glance at the man seated beside her.

Jeff listened to all of this in horror, unable to fathom the reasoning behind such an act. In the few times he'd spoken with the blonde, he could honestly and with one hundred percent certainty say that she was sane. Why on earth would anyone force her into a mental institution at all, let alone tie her down?

"They shoved me into this little room hours later," Torrie continued. "It was barely bigger than a closet. I... had a little bed and a... a..." She looked away, thoroughly ashamed. "... toilet and sink." She could feel tears wanting to come again but held them back. "They tried to give me some pills... Said they would make me 'feel better' and would 'clear my head.'" She shook her head bitterly and spat, "I always pretended to take them but never did. For the last couple of months, at least... but then someone discovered what I was doing."

The young man winced as he guessed they'd forced the drugs into her system at that point. Then, confirming his awful suspicions, Torrie elaborated.

"They came for me with a syringe that night." She shut her eyes tightly, shuddering visibly as she recalled the horror and pain of it. Lord only knew what kind of crap they had jabbed into her vein, but she'd only hoped it was with a sterile needle and wouldn't turn her into a vegetable.

The blonde opened her eyes again, her gaze falling to her left hand, of which Jeff had grabbed hold. Now, his thumb rubbed over the top of her hand, gentle and soothing. She felt so grateful for the contact.

For long moments, neither one of them spoke. Torrie was still battling against tears, and the young man had about a million questions swirling through his head. Finally, he bit the bullet and voiced what he considered perhaps the most important.

"Can I ask you something?"

Torrie fixed her green eyes on his expectantly and waited.

"What exactly happened right before they put you into that place?" he asked.

She flinched, her head bowing, though not out of shame. She remembered that night perfectly, perhaps a little _too_ vividly.

"Three men jumped me in the parking lot of the arena where we had RAW that night," she replied, her voice barely over a whisper. "They grabbed me and... and were going to probably... rape me."

"Oh, my God!"

Torrie nodded.

"One of them grabbed my suitcase and pocketed... a pair of my panties. One grabbed me from behind. H-He wrestled me to the ground and I managed to hit him." Her gaze trailed off to somewhere far and that no one else could see. "I ended up hurting him," she said. "Mr. McMahon said I broke his jaw. His friends ran off when he showed up."

Jeff arched a brow and cocked his head in confusion.

"Vince was there?"

Torrie nodded.

"He showed up with a security guard when I was hitting the guy who grabbed me," she said. "He told me the man was the son of the governor of Connecticut."

"Really?"

The blonde nodded again, finally feeling as though she wouldn't cry.

"Well, you know what?"

She stared directly into Jeff's eyes.

"What?"

"I think you have great reason to bring on a nice lawsuit... because I would bet on it that you were set up."

A frown came to Torrie's pretty face at his words.


	12. Chapter 12

**_A/N: I am SO sorry it's been so long between updates with this story! I'm afraid I haven't had much in way of brainstorms with this one, but I do know the general gist of what I want to have happen here. I've got at least one more chapter beside this one already written. Thanks to Katie, MarTW and Straight Edge Queen for reviewing the last chapter!_**

Torrie was back home for her usual three days off during the week. It was sheer relief for her to relax, take a breather. One thing for sure was that she wasn't having that easy a go of it on the road with SmackDown.

She decided to pamper herself just for the day. She clipped up all her long blonde hair and soaked in a warm bubblebath for about an hour. She played some music on the miniature portable CD player in the bathroom and even brought a glass of white wine in there. She sipped it leisurely as she kept the glass on the side of her luxurious slate marble tub. Corny enough as it seemed, she even had a phone in the bathroom.

It was too bad she doubted anyone would call her.

Try as she might, Torrie couldn't rid her mind of thoughts of what had happened in her life over the course of the past four months. She desperately wished she could forget mid-December through early March. Those weeks would forever be remembered as the worst in her entire life. Even going through a divorce from her onetime husband, Pete Gruner, had been less stressful and emotional, and that was saying a lot.

Resting her head against the back of the tub, which had a slight slant specifically for that purpose, she sighed. She recalled recent weeks in which she'd had run-ins with that awful bitch Michelle McCool. It seemed as though that woman went out of her way to make Torrie's life miserable. The divas' locker room during shows was pure hell for her, with palpable tension constantly floating through the air. She couldn't even count on Lisa Marie anymore. Her so-called best friend simply had nothing to do with her at this point, aside from a mandatory but very curt 'hello' or some other type of forced greeting.

At the thought of this, the platinum blonde's eyes filled with tears. She had already reached the point of bitterness as far as everyone else was concerned, but Lisa Marie Varon was a special case. They went far back, to years earlier as friends since their days as fitness models. In fact, that was how they'd met. They had become very fast friends, and it had been a treat to end up working together with the WWE back in 2001, when she'd first come over from WCW. The dark-haired woman had soon after been called back down to OVW, the training grounds, but they'd never lost touch. And on one day off a week, Torrie had always made sure to travel to Ohio to train with Lisa Marie. They'd been inseperable.

It was funny how things changed.

However, some small bit of good was happening for her at the moment. In spite of having to work with Michelle in their current storyline, Torrie was on television regularly again. Of course, she was playing a heel at the moment, but in spite of that, she still received a good deal of cheers from the fans in the arenas. It seemed that she was one of those heels who was still very over, popular with the crowds.

Candice Michelle was definitely the one diva who was still her friend. The brunette, although on the RAW roster, made sure to call her every other day, and they got together during a pay-per-view or Supershow. And at Candice's insistance, they would be going to a local mall for a good old-fashioned shopping spree the next time there was a combined brands show. Torrie actually could not wait for that. It would be great to get away and have a girls' day out type of thing.

Finally, there was the one and only Jeff Hardy. In so short a time frame, the enigmatic man had become so dear to her, and she'd quickly grown to think of him as one of her best friends... Well, it seemed she now only had two friends at all - him and Candice. But she was eternally grateful for them.

Jeff was like a godsend. He had been so amazing toward her, so understanding and sympathetic ever since that night when he'd comforted her in that corridor in an arena hallway. He'd barely known her except pretty much in passing, yet he'd taken the time to offer her kind and comforting words. He'd let her know that she was great and had so much going for her. He'd taken her out to eat on several occasions and just been there for her to talk. He was so sweet, and Torrie was thankful to whatever forces had brought him to her.

She was actually smiling as she stepped out of the bathtub. Thoughts of Jeff made it easy for feel encouraged and happy. She dried off and got dressed in the outfit she'd selected - a pair of worn, comfortable blue jeans and a black baby tee with a gothic design on it in dark colors.

Opting to keep her platinum hair clipped up, Torrie left the slightly steamy bathroom. As she moved into the living room, her three dogs, Chloe, Stewie and Rocky all followed her. She noticed her cell phone flashing as it lay on the dining room table and made a beeline over for it.

_New text message._

Frowning, the blonde wondered who could have sent her a text. The only person who used to do that was Lisa Marie. She wasn't much into texting like some were, so her curiosity was piqued.

Torrie hit the button that would open the message and smiled as she read it.

_Hey, it's Jeff. Hope ur doing well. Loved your backstage promo with McCool, u sure kicked her ass. I wanted to give you something, but u'll have 2 open the door 4 that._

The tall platinum blonde cocked her head as she read the end of the message. What was going on? Well, there was only one way to find out. She walked toward her front door, unlocked and then opened it.

She gasped at the sight before her. There was a man - a messenger, by the looks of it - just about to ring her doorbell. In the crook of his left arm, he was carrying a huge bouquet of flowers - roses of several different colors.

"Good afternoon, miss... I was just about to ring your bell."

Torrie was almost at a loss for words.

"Thank you very much!" she exclaimed.

The man nodded.

"Just sign here, please."

She did so and gratefully accepted the more than generous bouquet, sniffing the beautiful fragrance. Once the delivery man was gone from her porch, she closed the door and brought the flowers into the house, inspecting them. Quickly, she found a card.

_Torrie,_

Just thought these beautiful roses would brighten your day. 'Til we meet again,

Jeff

She shook her head and grinned, so surprised. Leave it to the rainbow-haired man to do something so sweet.


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: Thanks to Straight Edge Queen, MarTW and Ainat for the last set of reviews. You guys are awesome! :) Also, I apologize for taking so long in updating. I believe this is the last chapter I have that's already written, so unfortunately, you may have another long wait (sorry!). Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this new chapter!**_

_She screamed repeatedly, her head beginning to throb. Why weren't they coming back? Why weren't they doing anything for her? But the biggest question in her mind was - why was she in this godforsaken place? _

_She recalled what had happened that had led her down this path... The three young men in that arena parking lot in Connecticut... Their voices, teasing and taunting her as they stalked her through the deserted area. No one else around... As she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the hot tears as they rolled their way across her cheekbones, she recalled the one guy grabbing her... The other, coming around, face-to-face with her - literally - and demanding a kiss. _

_It went to the point where she could no longer scream. Her throat was horribly parched and sore, and she had lost all sense of time since being brought into this little dingy room. _

_She nearly choked on her tears as the sobbing grew to be out of control. She couldn't even move, except for barely raising her head. Her wrists and ankles were shackled to the damn table upon which she was laying. She felt lower than she'd ever experienced in her life, as though she were a trapped animal. Why wouldn't someone help her? Why wouldn't anyone come to their senses and realize that what they were doing to her was simply not right? _

_She closed her eyes, willing the situation to not be real but a mere figment of her imagination. Of course, she knew her wishes were hopeless, but blessedly, she fell asleep after a few more minutes._

Torrie bolted awake, her breathing too fast - _impossibly_ fast - and her heart thumping like a kettle drum. She was also drenched in a cold sweat, but that place had really done a nasty number on her. She knew she was scarred for life, thanks to that experience.

She felt her dog Rocky stir on the other side of her bed and calmed down a bit. She was safe.

_You're fine... You're at home, in your own bed_, she thought. It was still dark outside.

A quick glance at the digital clock on her nightstand to her left told the blonde it was little after three in the morning. She sighed and laid back in the bed, allowing her head to relax on the soft pillow. But after the memory-dream, she sensed she wouldn't be getting back to sleep anytime soon.

Torrie sat up again, pushing herself over so that her legs dangled over the side of her bed. She couldn't help but suddenly think of Jeff. The day earlier, she'd received that beautiful bouquet of flowers from him. She had given him a call immediately after to thank him for them. They'd ended up talking for over two hours. Before they had hung up, the young man had told her she was welcome to call him anytime - literally.

She sat there, pondering for a few minutes. _Should_ she call him now? She had a feeling he wouldn't mind, and besides, she knew she wouldn't be getting back to sleep anytime soon. Maybe hearing his voice would lull her back to it. Not that he was boring - Jeff Hardy was _anything_ but that.

Her mind made up, Torrie leaned across to the nightstand, her hand quickly finding the phone's receiver. She had already memorized his cell number and punched it in. She only hoped his phone was on and that he would hear it.

After three rings, she heard him pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Jeff... It's Torrie."

"Hey, Torrie," he replied.

She smiled despite herself. Strangely, he didn't sound as though he'd been sleeping. She couldn't detect any real hint of tiredness in his voice.

"What's up? Wow, you're up late."

"Well, I _was_ asleep," she explained, "but I had a bad dream."

Jeff sighed, sensing what it had been about.

"Ah, I gotcha," he said. "Memories of that place, huh?"

"H-How did you know?"

"Just a hunch... Don't worry about it. That's all in your past now."

Torrie stretched back, getting comfortable in her bed again while keeping the phone pressed against her ear.

"I know," she said. "Um... I didn't wake you or anything, I hope?"

"Nah, I haven't been to bed yet," he assured her. "Can't sleep."

"Oh, you too?"

"Yep... But it's okay. I usually don't turn in till real late on my days off," he said. "And when inspiration hits, I can't sleep unless I jot something down."

"What do you mean?" the blonde asked.

"Poetry," came the man's response. "I've been writin' ever since I can remember. I love it."

"That's great," Torrie said, impressed. She found herself learning more and more about the rainbow-haired man every day. "I'd love to read some of your work sometime... if that's okay."

Jeff laughed easily on the other end.

"Sure. Of course it's okay," he said. "I'd really like it if you read some of my poems."

Torrie found herself smiling brightly. Not for the first time, she was so glad he had been in that hallway corridor that night. Jeff was really a great guy. She'd noticed that she found herself thinking about him quite a lot as of late, even when she was home on her days off. And it usually comforted her when he sprang to mind.

"Yay!" she squealed. Crossing her legs at the ankles, she asked, "What's the poem you're writing tonight all about?"

"Uh uh... You'll have to wait until you read it, Miss Boise Belle."

The blonde chuckled, and for some reason, she felt a little happy twinge at him calling her 'Miss Boise Bell.' She could hardly wait to see him again.

They spoke for nearly an hour. It got to the point where Torrie found herself drifting a bit - not that Jeff was boring her, as that seemed impossible. But she'd already been exhausted. On top of that, she knew he had to be as well. So, they called it a night.

"Sweet dreams, sweet Torrie," Jeff said with a smile.

"Nighty night, Jeff," she replied.

They hung up, and the blonde fell back asleep with a smile on her face.


	14. Chapter 14

**_A/N: Well, I know it's been a few months since the last update... Thanks to Straight Edge Queen and Cro009 for the last reviews. Hope this new chapter (FINALLY up!) grabs your interest, as it shows a whole different perspective since Torrie isn't even physically _in _it! ;)_**

The woman scowled as she sat back on the sofa, her arms crossed over her chest in an almost hostile manner. She hated having to do it - it was like an obsessive compulsion for her - but she had no other choice. And so, she kept her hard gaze trained on the television set as she pored over the many, many tapes in her collection.

She had yet to gauge what everyone had found so special about the woman. What exactly was it about her that drew people in, whether it be management or fans? Sure, she was beautiful - she was woman enough to admit that. But what was it about her aura that seemed to charm so many?

"Baby, are you coming to bed?"

Michelle McCool looked up at the sound of her boyfriend's voice. Pressing 'pause' on the VCR remote she held in her right hand, she appealed to Mark Calloway.

"Not yet, honey. I'm a little busy," she replied. Her gaze returned to the TV as she hit the pause button again, putting back to life Torrie Wilson, where she was in a lingerie match, of all things, with Stacy Keibler at No Mercy 2001.

Mark edged closer so that he was farther into the room. He stood just beside the left arm of the sofa as he peered at the television.

"Baby, why are you watching this?"

"Just doing a little studying," Michelle told him, her gaze never leaving the TV screen. She shook her head as she bitterly wondered why both WCW and WWE management had always been so high on the other blonde. She was nothing special in the ring as far as _she_ was concerned. McCool thought it was a miracle that Torrie had never seriously injured anyone with that horrendous swinging neckbreaker of hers. Then again, she had heard rumors that the other woman had once broken former diva and _Tough Enough_ wonner Nidia Guenard's jaw. She scoffed at that, as it was no secret around the locker room that Torrie had broken the jaw of the son of the governor of Connecticut back in December. Evidently, the blonde had a real knack for doing that.

"Studying?" Mark echoed. He shook his head, eyeing his girlfriend with confusion. "A lingerie match, of all things?"

"No," the blonde replied flatly, with barely a touch of emotion in her voice, "I'm studying _her_." She pointed a slender finger at Torrie Wilson's image on the screen.

Calloway eyed her wordlessly, not quite knowing how to respond to that. He knew Michelle had some sort of 'problem' with Torrie, but it perplexed him. He had no idea what it was all about, but he hoped the two women would move past it. He knew they'd been called into Mr. McMahon's office for a lecture not too long ago. He just hoped it would all have been ironed out by now. Maybe he should just go and speak to Vince himself. He didn't voice a syllable of this to his girlfriend, as he sensed she might overreact, but he decided he would give it some thought.

"All right, then... Whenever you're ready, you come up to bed." Mark leaned down to kiss Michelle on the forehead. She barely even reacted to the gesture and contact.

"Yeah." The skinny blonde never moved her steely gaze off the scene taking place on the screen. And with that, Calloway left.

Although it was late, after one in the morning, Michelle sat there and continued to watch the tapes. She had a myriad of matches and general segments of Ms. Torrie Wilson. She was determined to watch these until dawn, maybe even later, if that was what it took. Not only did she want to gain one tiny ounce of comprehension as to what the company had found so dear and cherishable in the Boise native, she also wanted to study her... After all, they were currently engaged in a feud, and McCool found herself having to face Torrie in the ring, in matches, and possibly putting herself in harm's way.

She suddenly found herself watching Torrie's WCW debut, in which she was a temptress named 'Samantha' who seduced an unknown man into doing her bidding. Her gaze hard, she scowled. The blonde sure had lousy acting skills back then. Michelle had to admit, as much as she hated to, that she had improved over the past nine years.

She found it strangely ironic that they actually had a few things in common. Aside from the physical, especially with the blonde hair, like herself, Torrie had been an athlete all her life. However, the other woman had been a well known fitness model, and that had been how she'd gotten into pro-wrestling. She shared that with Trish Stratus as opposed to Michelle herself, who had of course gotten her own start by competing in the first ever Diva Search contest.

The blonde supposed all of that was fairly admirable. But did she admire Torrie Wilson? Hell, _no_ she didn't! If anything at all, watching these tapes and knowing everything she knew about the buxom blonde fueled her already strong hatred for her.


End file.
